


immunity to cold is russian propoganda

by AnxietyAvocado



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, Family, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxietyAvocado/pseuds/AnxietyAvocado
Summary: “Yuuuuuuri,” Phichit singsonged.Yuuri hated that tone of voice, too.“What, Peach?” he asked tiredly, already determined to say no to whatever ridiculous thing his friend was about to suggest.“Dogpile.”
Relationships: Georgi Popovich/Original Female Character(s), Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Michele Crispino & Sara Crispino, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov & Georgi Popovich
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	immunity to cold is russian propoganda

One time, Yuuri had to study classic literature in school. Not classic literature from Japan, but something considered a classic around the world. He had picked Dante’s _Inferno_ , and learned about the incredibly detailed and specific levels of hell. He was surprised to learn one of them was frozen. 

Imagine his further surprise when he moved to Detroit - frozen, cold, gray, and apparently the literal incarnation of Dante’s frozen hellscape. 

And then, he moved to St. Petersburg, which made Detroit look like a mild spring morning. 

Most of the time it wasn’t all that bad - Viktor had heated floors in his apartment, there was always a warm poodle or a space-heater hot fiance to cuddle with, and Viktor owned an impressive collection of soft blankets. (He said he bought most of them for Makkachin. Yuuri didn’t believe it for a second.)

By the end of his first Grand Prix season while training in Russia, Phichit had declared that he missed his best friend too much to be healthy, send Ciao Ciao off to Italy to visit family, and showed up at the front door of Viktor’s apartment building wearing what Yuuri was sure was every layer he possibly owned - more like almost certainly owned after moving back to Thailand. 

“My people aren’t meant for snow,” he said between bouts of teeth chattering, stripping off the outside layers of hat, scarf, and coat in the elevator. 

Yuuri snorted. “And yet you decided you wanted to spend 10 hours a day in a giant freezer.”

“Beauty is pain, Yuuri. Beauty is pain.”

“That’s what you said when you wanted to pluck my eyebrows, you can’t apply that to everything.”

Phichit’s retort was cut off by the ding of the elevator, and when the doors slid open Yuuri quietly greeted Mrs. Plushenko, their neighbor down the hall who insisted again _call me Babushka my dear, please_ , before ushering Phichit into the apartment where his friend sighed at the warmth. 

“Now this is more like it.”

* * *

“This is _not_ more like it at all.”

Viktor could be seen attempting - poorly - not to roll his eyes at Phichit’s dramatics. Yuuri had no qualms about sassing his best friend, so he rolled his eyes without bothering to hide it, and nudged the pile of blankets Phichit was currently hiding under. 

“So the building’s heater is on the fritz,” he shrugged. “The heated floor tiles still work. Just… pile blankets on the floor and cuddle Makka.”

Something that Yuuri had just said sparked an idea in Phichit, as evidenced by the gleam in his eyes and the wide smile spreading across his face. Yuuri knew that look. Yuuri usually hated that look. 

“Yuuuuuuri,” Phichit singsonged. 

Yuuri hated that tone of voice, too.

“What, Peach?” he asked tiredly, already determined to say no to whatever ridiculous thing his friend was about to suggest. 

“Dogpile.”

As soon as Phichit had opened his mouth to start talking, Yuuri had prepared himself to object, but paused mid inhale. That wasn’t actually a terrible idea… And it involved keeping all of their clothes on, which was unlike most of Phichit’s ideas. With a desperate look over at Viktor, who shrugged from his place at the kitchen island, Yuuri knew he didn’t really have an out.

“I can text them, but if they say no you’re not allowed to harass anyone online!”

Without replying, Phichit went over to the cabinet where they kept the blankets and grabbed _all of them_ and started a pile in the middle of the floor. Makkachin, who had been dozing on her dog bed nearby, looked up to see what the commotion was, but apparently decided not to move… yet. 

No sooner had Yuuri sent and then closed his messaging app, did the replies start flying in on digital wings, heralded by determined little chimes. As the notifications piled up on his screen, Yuuri realized that there really was no getting out of this. 

“They all agreed. And Georgi is bringing Anastasia. And Sara is visiting, which means Michele is visiting.”

“I’m not cuddling Michele.”

Yuuri laughed. “I don’t think anyone will be. He’s basically allergic to human contact from anyone who isn’t Emil.”

The last reply that came in caused Yuuri’s eyebrows to nearly disappear into his hairline, and he only shook his head with Phichit looked at him questioningly. 

Some things were just too profanity-laden to dignify with an answer - most of Yura’s text messages were. 

* * *

“Get the _fuck_ off of me, hag! Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I want you to touch-”

Mila tutted. “Yura, Yura, such language. Are you upset because a certain hero is missing from today's activities? Come now, it’s a dogpile, now get over here!”

“...cats are better.”

“No one is better at cuddles than my Anastasia!”

Yuuri was certain he heard someone - maybe Phichit - grumble something about them cuddling in a room, far, far away. 

“DON’T TOUCH MY SISTER! I SEE YOU SHIFTING AROUND UNDER THOSE BLANKETS. SARA, COME CUDDLE ME, I’LL KEEP YOU SAFE!”

“Mickey, calm down. Mila and I are going to cuddle up with little Yurochka here, and you know he’s harmless. If you don’t want to cuddle with all of us, make yourself useful and go get us some snacks!”

Viktor pouted. “But I don’t want to share my Yuuri. He’s mine to cuddle with!"

There was a series of muffled noises as Phichit tried to maneuver his head into Yuuri’s lap. “You have Yuuri _and_ Makkachin. Stop being so selfish Viktor. He was mine first!”

“Well he’s mine forever, so there.”

“...Vitya, _must_ you stick your tongue out at him? You’ve been spending too much time with Yura.”

“Fuck you, Katsudon.”

“Ah, ah, my little Kitten. That’s Viktor’s job, isn’t it. Unless you want-”

“I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP HAG. I HATE ALL OF YOU. WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN HERE.”

“Because I made teriyaki chicken?”

“....fine.”

Viktor looked around at his rinkmates, student, and various associates all curled into a sprawling pile in the middle of the floor, heated tiles keeping them all warm. “So you really did this back in Detroit?”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah… Peach and I weren’t used to the snow for a long time. He didn’t even see snow in person until he had moved to the States. We started out making blanket forts but that took too much effort, so we ended up just piling all of our blankets in one of the bedrooms when the heaters would go out, and we just stayed there with our laptops so we wouldn’t freeze. Sometimes the pairs skaters would join us, or Leo if he was in town. One time we got Ketty to hang out with us, but mostly it was us and a few other singles skaters. Just because we spend all day on the ice doesn’t mean we’re used to the cold, you know?”

“Yeah. Besides, Yuuri gets cuddly when he’s tired.”

The man in question turned to his friend, face turning bright red and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Peach, I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

Viktor looked between the two. “Talk about what?”

“Nothing,” they chimed in unison. 

“Yuuuuuri,” Viktor crooned. “As your coach, I should know everything about y-”

Yura interrupted with a huff. “We all know you know Katsudon more than any coach ever fucking should. Shut the fuck up and put on Netflix, Geezer. You promised us Great British Baking Show.”

With a hum, and a look at Yuuri that said he would get the story out of his fiance one way or another, Viktor reached for the remote and starting fiddling with buttons until the show in question was playing. Yuuri settled back between his legs, back resting against Viktor’s chest, while Phichit rest his head on Yuuri’s thigh, Makkachin flopped over his stomach. 

Maybe he could talk to Yakov about instituting dogpiles as team bonding...

**Author's Note:**

> i continue to blame discord for all of the bullshit that i post. they own my self control, apparently


End file.
